Beauty is a Savage Garden
by Eveabella
Summary: Sequel to Careful What You Wish For -synopsis included- : Strange how one little misunderstanding can cause so much trouble. As Scarlet fights for her life, Callum gives up hope and swears revenge against the Volturi. Insanity ensues.
1. Preface

**_Disclaimer: Well? Do I look like Stephanie Meyers?  
No.  
So why do you even have to ask?_**

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_You kind of need to read Careful What You Wish For to understand this but for those who can't be bothered, here's a quick synopsis:_

_Callum worked for the Volturi, and he met Scarlet in a club while hunting. He decided that she was too good for just a quick kill and started to slightly stalk her just a tad (he isn't as evil as he sounds at the moment). Aro found out about his odd obsession with her, and told him that he must kill her before she finds out what he is. Slight snag there, he fell in love with her. And she already figured out what he was via _'a lifetime of obsession and paranoia'_. Aro gives him until midnight to kill her. Callum can't do it, so Alec blinded Callum while Felix took Scarlet back to the Volturi. Long story short Callum used his power (he knows every detail about the present) to escape him and raced back to save Scarlet. She, knowing that Callum would fight the Volturi and end up dead, cut her own neck so that Callum would hopefully see that there was no point fighting as she was already dead. Felix began to drink her. Callum stormed in, when Scarlet was on the brink of death. He attempts to save her through CPR, but her heart stops._

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**Beauty is a Savage Garden**

'_Where these innocent ones belonged in the vampire's arms.'_

**Introduction**

The world is not a fairy tale. Love does not conquer all and good does not triumph over evil. Rather, evil shall always exist as a man made concept in which it is perceived to be an ugly thing. But the evil is not the deed; it is the knowledge of the offender who commits that deed. It is the realisation that the deed is an act of evil, and the disregard for this knowledge which leads the evil-doer to commit the deed. Evil is knowing the path you take is wrong, yet still taking it. Evil lurks in the heart of every human, for a person can be good and commit evil acts. And goodness itself is an ineffable quality always seen as beautiful. But beauty exists beyond the realms of good and evil. Beauty is something without law, something utterly intangible in its qualities. Beauty is a constant in all lives, whether it is the illuminating beauty of pure joy or the dull beauty of sorrow. The world is an ugly place but beauty can be found everywhere within it. It only takes an instant to open your eyes and see.

If the world were a fairy tale, every story would have its happy ending, and once it was achieved time would stand still, frozen in that one perfect moment. But as it exists life is unfair, and fate has the cruellest of humours. But then, sometimes life can surprise you with its capacity to forgive and to allow the briefest and most coveted of happiness. Sometimes you can have your happy ending, if only for a second. A famous writer once described beauty as a Savage Garden; wild and uncontrollable and without bounds. It stretches on forever and creeps into every life. There is something to be said for that.

**Preface**

This was impossible. I'd officially lost my final marble. I didn't even realise I had any left. I was shaking. This wasn't fair. I couldn't lose everything twice. So I didn't dare close my eyes. The minute I did, I knew I'd lose this image. This perfect image. If this was full blown insanity, I couldn't say I didn't like it. It was definitely preferable to sanity at any rate. We stood, staring at each other, completely frozen. It was as if we were mirrors of one another. I tilted my head to the left; they tilted it to the right. I stepped forward, they did the same. Our eyes were locked as if we'd never seen each other before. The phrase 'time to meet your maker' now took on a whole new meaning.

What shocked me most was the fury that bubbled inside of me. How dare they come here? How dare they be? I wanted to hurt them more than anything. I wanted them to suffer as I had. I hated them. No, I wanted to hate them. But the child inside of me wanted to collapse to the ground and sob. Wanted them to hold me and murmur reassurances. I couldn't go through this again. I promised myself I'd never cry for them again. But now I could feel the moans rising in my throat. I stubbornly stuck to my anger, determined that if I made any sound it would be to scream at them. There was no turning back now. Now they were here, they had to stay forever, or destroy me. God knew their leaving would do it anyway.

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**_A little pretentious, granted but you'll see a lot of my philosophical side during this story so . . . What? Don't look so shocked!_**


	2. The World Won't Stop Spinning

_Callum's P.O.V._

I never thought there could be anything more painful than Jane's glare, but this was it. Jane was nothing compared to this. I'd take her five times over. It felt as if my heart had been ripped out, literally. It felt as if I was frozen to the core. As if I was burning alive. I felt physically sick and my throat was so tight I could hardly get any breath through it. I felt like I could actually throw up for the first time in almost a century. My head was spinning at three thousand miles an hour as I watched the very reason for my existence fail before my eyes. I heard her heart stop. The silence was unbearable. A single sob racked my chest. My roar broke the silence, echoing through the hollow halls. I lay her back down and rose, staring down at her. Cold, lifeless, dead. The fleeting warmth of her mortal life simply gone. Because of me. Because of them. I wanted to die. Not before them though. Not before _him_. I'd take as many of them with me as I could, and when one of them got the fatal shot at me, I'd be glad.

A low growl came from my chest, a snarl which reflected the animal raging inside. "Callum," Aro began in a serious voice, but my howl cut him off. Immediately five figures in grey cloaks stepped forward to their master's defence. I'd never call him master again. I'd never bow to his will again, and if it killed me, and it would, I'd show him he didn't own me. Suddenly Aro's expression sharpened, "Listen." He said softly. _No!_ I didn't want to listen to anything he had to say. I didn't want to listen to the silence of the room any more. I couldn't bear it. I roared again, trying to dart through the guards to attack him. "Listen!" Aro commanded. "Listen to her heart."

"No!" I shouted, louder than any mortal was capable of shouting. It would have smashed the ear drums of any close. I wouldn't listen to her stillness any longer. I couldn't bear to. They wanted to hurt me, wanted me to suffer even more than I had already. Wanted to gloat in my pain. I wouldn't listen to silence. I lunged forward suddenly, aiming straight at Felix's head, not caring if I made it to him, or if I was dead before I landed. I wanted to tear his throat out and nothing was going to stop me trying.

**_Back to the short chapters, I'm afraid. The next one will be over 2000 words, promise. Okay, you can probably see where I'm going with this._**


	3. Hell is Being Alive

_Scarlet's P.O.V._

I was in hell. I can't say it was a shock. Fire spread through my body to the point where it almost felt as if I was freezing at absolute zero. And there was none of the numbness to comfort me. I had no nerve endings to burn away. Strange, but it still felt as though I was in my own body as I writhed. I still had form. I suppose that was my mind's way of consoling me. And I thought nothing could be more excruciating than Jane's glare. This kind of power would turn her green with envy. After this I could not possibly find hers painful. Now all I could do was pray to a God that had damned me to save him. To make him see sense. I couldn't bear it if he joined me here. And I made no pretence he'd go to heaven. Much as I loved him, he was still a vampire and I had more than an idea of their diet. They killed. He killed. I was in love with a murderer. Seemed fitting enough. I don't think he would have seen it that way though. I think it must be like the food chain to them. I didn't know if they could survive on animal blood alone, and I was of the opinion that all beings were primarily selfish. Look at every good deed ever done. Even I can't claim that my final act was completely without thought of myself. There was no way I could cope with Callum's death even for a second. It would be worse than this, hard as that was to imagine, it would be so much worse. And this was bloody agonising. I was blinded by this. The fire surged through my body, coursing through my imaginary veins, searing every fibre of my being. Every cell was engulfed by the flames I couldn't see, for I could not open my eyes. I must have been melting away. Nothing could come out of this fire standing. It must burn everything away. Cleanse me. Of what, I wasn't sure. I don't think I had ever done anything bad enough to deserve this. If it was just being atheist then how unfair was that? What kind of truly benevolent God would inflict this on someone just for being a little sceptical? If you ask me, He, or she I guess, must be at least a little sadistic. To do this to anyone – Mind you, it very well may be the whole vampire thing. What I really wanted to know was how long I had to stay like this. Even oblivion would be better than it. I needed a release. I couldn't look forward to dead; this was it.

So I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding together. I felt my lips pull apart to form a scream so piercing it would break glass were there any in hell. All my muscles tensed against the pain. By now endorphins in my brain should have been working overtime to numb this agony, but even they couldn't cope. Well, I suppose I no longer had a brain. Ha, brainless. Oh brilliant. I was an air head. Damn, I didn't even have a head! For some odd reason the phrase _'running around like a headless chicken'_ popped into my nonexistent head. The pain may have been unbearable, but it had been there so long now I could almost, well, not ignore it, but overlook it. But time had lost all meaning; I could have been here a day, a week, or years. It felt like eternity. Every moment was drawn out in fiery torture. No matter how I may have distracted myself, I was still contorting, my muscles twisting; my bones were white hot in my body, and I swear I could feel them splintering. And my heart felt like it would implode. Darkness pressed heavily on my chest, weighing me down. I wanted to succumb to it, to let it overwhelm me, but it didn't. It just ebbed at the edge of my consciousness, bearing down on me, heavier and heavier, but there was a tiny part of me that resisted, that clung to the flames and I tried to give in. I couldn't help but wonder why.

Then the strangest thing began to happen. I started to feel. And not just the pain. But I was aware of my body; I could feel hard stone beneath me. I could hear voices. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but they were definitely there. Unless I had actually finally lost the plot. I wouldn't be surprised given the extent of this pain and the unstable state of my mind to begin with. But I was . . . uncannily still. I couldn't feel the beat of my heart, or feel my breath leave my body. Maybe I _was_ dead. Just not dead-dead. How were vampires changed? I didn't know, and it was ridiculously hard to think straight with the burning. Did I die while he was drinking me? It was hard to recall. It felt like years ago. No, I remember – I remember seeing Callum. He was there, trying to save me. Then, was I – was it possible I was alive, just not alive-alive? Didn't I have to drink from them to change? Or was that just another cliché?

Aro's voice interrupted my thoughts. _'It nearly killed her, but she's pulling through'_. The smile was evident in his voice. Was he talking about me? I could feel my forehead crease into a frown as I tried to think through what was happening without being distracted. A deep voice, I vaguely recognised, replied, _'She feels powerful'._ Could that be me? I'd never been powerful before. This was new. Was Callum there? Was he holding my hand? I so badly wanted it to be his voice I was hearing. I needed him. That thought made me fight against the weakening blackness and the roaring flames that consumed me. I wanted him to be whispering in my ear, that everything was alright, I was nearly through this, tell me how brave I'd been and how we now had eternity together. Eternity together. The words echoed in my hollow mind, ringing above my head. I began to feel a sort of giddy excitement. The fire had dulled now and I knew it was not long to go before I would awake. And he would be there. He'd lift me gently up and kiss me. Maybe I'd look different. Maybe I'd finally be beautiful. And I could stand next to him without feeling grossly inadequate. Perfect, forever. An eerie calm fell over me. Suddenly, I could take the pain. I could push it to the back of my mind and look forward. The flames began to die in my chest. It was time to wake up.

The fire wasn't gone, it had only moved. Focused on my throat, itching it, making it raw. Every breath I took seemed to scratch it. It was so dry, and I felt a thirst such that I had never felt before. My whole body ached with it. My hand began to twitch, trying to reach towards my neck as if to soothe it. I managed to open my eyes, just enough to see the blurry outline of a vampire which seemed to be Aro. I turned my head looking desperately for Callum, or anyone other than the Volturi who caused my death. Well, half death. Wait – Aro didn't want to change me. I think his exact words were: _'that would be more complicated than you realise.'_ It seemed simple enough from this point of view. Unless he meant the whole inexplicably painful fire, but that was completely worth it. Or was it something else? I nearly died apparently, was that because of the change, was it the normal, or was it something specific to me? That would just be my luck; the one person in the world who couldn't be properly changed into a vampire. Talk about irony. A hush fell on the whispers and I could feel people hovering a little way from me.

My eyes flew open and my jaw must have dropped in amazement. I'd never seen anything like this before. I'd never seen like this before. I could see the particles in the air, tiny sparkles dancing about me. And a deep shade of red that tinged what should have been clear, with violet streaks through it, both of which were more striking and more vibrant than any colours I had seen with my mortal eyes, yet they were translucent and easy to see through. They gave the grey stone some semblance of life. I could only presume they were the frequencies of visible light that humans could not perceive. But everything had a kind of strange and unsettling beauty now, something that was fascinating. I lay staring into space for so long, just watching the tiny atoms drift, so soft and insignificant. How nice it must be to be one. You wouldn't have to worry about anything, ever. You'd just go were you were drawn, barely touching anything, being invisible to almost everything. Except me.

I lifted my head with such ease I may have thought I was an air head after all, and looked around me. Now I had a new distraction, and it was hard to focus. I stared at my skin as miniscule particles attacked it. It was pale; paler than it had ever been, and reflective so the light bounced of it, seeming to glow. It looked almost as if it had been painted with gloss. It was smooth, all the fine lines marking folds in it gone. It was the perfect skin of a killer.

Slowly my other senses overrode my new vision. Smell was the next to catch my attention. Everything had its own unique scent. The stone smelt damn and old, slightly bitter to my nose. I could smell Aro and his lackeys. Each scent had its own signature but they all smelt sweet, like they had been heavily perfumed. But my own clothes were the first to capture my new sense of smell. God, they burned. They smelt like nothing I had ever known. They smelt _so good._ The fragrance that lingered on them was faded now, and dampened by my own scent, but it was still enough to enflame my throat. I wanted to get as far away from this scent as possible, as what remained of my common sense told me I could not drink from pieces of material. But the irrational part of me wanted to hug them closer, taste them, letting them heal the scratches inside my gullet. This fierce longing was almost as bad as the flames of change.

It was for this reason I sat up, looking for anything to satiate the thirst that made me convulse. A feral growl, which shocked me, came from my lips as I smelt something in the distance, something better than what clung to my clothes. It was alive, warm and sweet in a way that made my mouth water, and pulsing as it hung in the space between me and its source. My hearing sharpened to focus on this creature so far away from me. I could hear the rustle of its feet, the tapping of keys. I could hear everything in this place. I could hear the scurry of rats along the walls, the footsteps and quiet chatter of whatever beings inhabited wherever we were. But what I heard most was the cadence of hearts beating in a melody that was strange but regular. And each beat of that rhythm pierced me. I knew now what I smelt on my clothes; the remnants of my humanity. And the scent in the distance that drove me half mad with hunger was the humans that worked for the Volturi. All movement within me stopped, stumbling over that idea. I froze. I wanted to kill them. So much it hurt me. Was this what Callum had felt around me? Had being near me pained him so? Every kiss, every touch . . . was it so torturous for him? I couldn't imagine this scent any closer to be; I wouldn't be able to stop myself lunging at it. I wouldn't torment him any longer. A slight smile came across my lips as I thought of that.

With much effort I managed to fade back to the room in which I had woken. I was surprised to find I was on my feet. Aro was a little way from me, standing warily in a defensive stance. The thought of him fighting anyone almost made me laugh. I studied all the faces, trying not to be distracted by the shine of their skin or the intricacy of the fabrics they wore. Callum wasn't there. None of the perfect faces belonged to him. I struggled to control my urge to tear through them to find him, or to follow the scent that scorched me. I wasn't sure which I would do. I needed him here to calm me, to help me stop myself from going after that scent. I needed him to be my teacher. "Where is Callum?" Asked a deep melodic and bell-like voice that seemed to come from me. That was odd. I was seized by the impulse to sing a few bars to see how it had changed. I wrestled down that thought and watched their uneasy faces, trying to figure out what had happened. I took it, it wasn't good news. I bit my lip and realised how sharp my new teeth were.

"Callum thought you dead." Aro began in a soft voice that I shouldn't have heard from so far away, for he was standing half the room from me. Still, I could hear every subtle change in pitch as he spoke. "He foolishly attacked us. We had to deal with him." I think in that moment time must have stood still for me. Everything disappeared. What he said then, I barely heard even with my brilliant new senses. My world crashed down around my ears until there was nothing. I knew well enough what 'deal with him' meant. Callum. Oh God, Callum. What have I done? How could I be so stupid? I'm so sorry. God Callum, I'm so sorry. You bloody idiot! What the hell did you have to go and become insane for? My expression became exaggerated in a way it could never before. I wore my emotions so easily on my sleeve. But still no tears crawled down my cheeks, though my throat felt raw. _No._ He wouldn't. He would have seen sense. He couldn't have done this to me. He wouldn't. He loved me, didn't he? How could he just abandon me?

"No!" I roared. _No._ It wasn't possible. _No._ He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. We had forever now. What the hell was I supposed to do with forever on my own? The selfish bastard. No. He would never have done this. The only person I ever loved was not gone. His presence was not merely an echo. His vibrant life was not now dulled. In one instant I saw eternity. Alone. And I was certain Callum would not have inflicted this on me. "You lie." I hissed with a terrible conviction.

"Scarlet, we had no choice." Aro said with a tone that would have nearly sounded sincere if it weren't for the fact his eyes were alight as if amused by my ire, which infuriated me further. Without thinking I sprung forward, further than I ever thought possible, leaping the distance between us. Jane was suddenly in front of me, blocking my path to Aro so I slammed into her stone-like body. I straightened up, meeting her gaze, ready for her power. I wouldn't scream this time. I'd been to the ninth circle of hell and back, I wasn't about to collapse now. But as she glared at me nothing happened. The pain did not come as I had expected. She suddenly began to teeter. She was falling backwards. Was she unconscious? Was that even possible? What in the hell just happened? I felt the dull thud as she hit the ground. Every other vampire in the room was now staring at me in utter astonishment. I heard a snarl from a young one; he raced forward and spun to face him, ready to fight. "Alec, wait." Aro commanded and the boy called Alec gave me a glowering look and knelt by Jane, propping her up and testing her for signs of life. Which, I suppose, would be difficult. Vampires don't breathe and their hearts don't beat, so how do you tell if they're alive or sleeping? Aro cocked his head and looked at me curiously, and drawing back my gaze so he could stare into my eyes. Then he fell backwards. _Shit._ I was in for it now. I tried very hard not to smile and say 'ta-dah!' in a cheesy attempt to weasel out of getting in trouble. How was this happening?! I didn't know what I was doing to them! Suddenly I was being pinned down by a vampire I recognised to be Felix and one that I didn't know the name of. One of them covered my eyes as I felt my body being lifted. I didn't have a clue where they were taking me and I didn't care.

Callum was dead. Gone. And everything that made immortality worth it was gone with him. I saw forever, stretched out in front of me, absolutely empty. A hollow existence. No meaning, no point, nothing of anything. And forever was an impossibly long time to comprehend. A chill swept over me as I thought of it and I realised that the arms that were carrying me were not cold as they were supposed to be. No, they were, it was me. I was just as cold as them now. I'd never be warm again.

**_I am honestly trying to tone down the light-heartedness. It's not working too well. At least this chapters over 3000 words! Whooo!_**

**Pretty please review, it always cheers me up so much! Especially on a Thursday. Thursdays are crappy.**

**_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, toodlepip for now!_**


	4. Family Inheritance

**_Sorry for the wait, and it is a bit shorter than the last chapter but I hope you like it all the same._**

I lay, perfectly still, staring into space. I didn't blink, and I no longer felt the need to shift my weight. My body was made to withstand its own mass now. My mind – my mind was utterly blank. I didn't care what happened to me anymore. So I stopped thinking about it. There was no point. Either they'd kill me or they wouldn't. I honestly didn't care which. I couldn't see Will or Argo or Elli or Jake or Luke or even Lupe, when he got out, now. I didn't know many of the Volturi, and I couldn't say I cared for the ones I did. If I saw anyone from my human life again I don't think I'd be able to stop myself killing them. As that sunk in a dull sadness crept through the apathy. I was sure tears should be collecting in my eyes, but none did. Maybe vampires couldn't cry. So all this pent up inside me, until a sob broke the silence that was echoing in the room around me. But even silence wasn't silence any more. I could hear the dripping of water down through the cracks of the stone, the movement of creatures through the ruins, and that same rhythm that tormented me. The warm beat of each fragile heart and the sweet heavy breath of the humans that were kept far from me. How could they stand to work for the Volturi, knowing they killed? And how could the Volturi endure their presence? Maybe it got easier. I had to pray it got easier, because at the moment, if one of them came near me they'd be dead within a second. The burning in my throat had not eased. If anything it was worse now. My heart may not have been beating but my whole body was still throbbing with thirst.

So I passed the time watching the shimmer of particles as they danced, courting each other. I think I fell in love with the sight of them. – Could a monster love? Was there binds of friendship among fiends? And there could be no doubt I was one. The burning in my lungs proved it. I was made to kill. Even before the change. It's like it was fated. – But this was nothing like the warm mortal love I had felt for Callum. It was cold and admiring. Was this all Callum had felt for me? This sort of wistful gaze, looking in on what could never be mine? Cold like a killer. Brilliant as beauty, as I saw everything with a distance. Things I could never touch. I could never be part of that world again. Another sob broke from my chest, but it didn't stop this time. This painful cry made my throat raw as it screeched through the halls, until I was curled over, clutching my knees and trying to hold myself together. I cried like this until even my new vocal chords were exhausted and all I could do was shake through ragged breath.

Finally I was still, lying in the foetal position, my arms tight around my knees. Though my eyes were open, I saw nothing but a single particle, and its sudden swishes from side to side as it drifted, being pulled through the air by some unknown force. I began to wonder how it didn't become torn with such movements. I began to wonder if it was not a wearisome and pointless existence. Whether it was not so tired of movement. Whether it wished to be as still as I. It was a plaything; pulled by invisible strings. I watched its dance, as though trying to tell it that I noticed. I cared. I watched it for hours, lying perfectly still so as not to disturb them.

It felt like weeks had passed by the time someone finally entered the room. It was the young vampire again. The boy named Alec. "Get up." He said with spite unmistakeable in his tone. No niceties, I guessed. I think it was because of what I did to the witch. He had some sort of relationship with her. Obediently, I got to my feet. There was no point in making a fight out of it. I pulled the dark grey cloak tighter around myself. It still smelt of Callum. I stared at him dry eyed and soundlessly. I didn't dare speak; my voice was hoarse. I knew he must have heard my howls, everyone must have, and I knew he must see me quivering, but he made no acknowledgement of my weakness – which I suppose was a small act of kindness. I don't think he wanted to notice. If there was one thing I'd learnt from my heritage it was that seeing you broken could soften your worst enemy. Alec turned out of the room and began walking down the corridor. I followed him without a word.

I seemed to glide effortlessly through the halls. My legs moved faster than were meant to. I itched to find out how fast I could travel, but the before I could he paused at a wooden panel in the wall and handed me a piece of cloth. I took it warily, brushing it through my fingers. It was only rough cloth, but it felt like silk against my granite skin. It shouldn't have. "Put it on." Alec ordered. I stared at him curiously, unable to comprehend what he was asking. "For God's sake." He muttered. "It's a blindfold." He said, glaring at me. It was then that I noticed he hadn't met my eyes since he entered the room. He was avoiding them. Brilliant, I couldn't even look at people any more without everything turning to shit. Although, I did quite enjoy the fact I had power over them. I wrapped it around my eyes and tied it. I folded my arms across my chest; as if I wasn't uncomfortable enough without the added bonus of not being able to see. Alec took my arm carefully and I flinched back a bit. His hand was warm. I knew it shouldn't be. Nothing was right any more. He led me through the door and into the middle of the room. Even without sight I could feel eyes on me. My back pricked and arched under their attentions. I could hear low mutters spreading through the hall.

"Scarlet." Aro's voice silenced the murmurs, and seemed wholly unaware of how completely I hated its possessor. Callum was dead because of him. My life was worthless because of him. Loathing didn't begin to cover what I then felt and would always feel for my new 'master'. "I hope you have, by now, calmed down." I clenched my jaw and nodded. I wasn't going to lose control again. There was no point. I'd be dead before I could get to him. "Of course, we had to take . . . precautions." He said with a soft chuckle. I imagined myself ripping off the blindfold and sending every other vampire in the room to sleep before dealing with Aro myself. I felt strong, more powerful than anyone could, or should be. At least, physically. I was certain they couldn't stop me. But something did. Probably just my nagging bit of sanity. "I am sure you wish for a full explanation," He really was utterly oblivious. I couldn't have cared less about an explanation. As if that was magically going to make everything better. But Aro continued, unaware of my lack of enthusiasm;

"You see, your heart did, in fact, stop – for a minute or so. Then, and we do not know what happened to trigger it, it started again." Aro said, curiosity in his voice. It was clear he didn't understand any more than I did. I felt like replying _'evidently'_, but I had no wish to experience Jane's glare again. Even if it wasn't the most painful thing I'd experienced within the last twenty four hours – or however long it had been, there was no way of telling time here. "The venom began to course around your system; it healed your arm and reshaped your body. You are quite a marvel; the transformation very nearly killed you." Aro laughed lightly. "You really fought." Well that was odd, seeing as I was trying to surrender and die. Why did I get the feeling my body hated me? "You see – you were already part vampire." Huh. Well that makes at least a little sense. I almost laughed out loud thinking of all the times I'd scrutinised myself for anything other than human. "And the venom does not work well in a vampire's system, but it seems you were just human enough for it to function." Aro seemed to jump to life suddenly, his tone changed and he seemed to have an air of anticipation about him, "Now, I am sure there is more you would like to know, but that can wait. You must be quite distracted now, and I fear if we deny you any longer you may become uncontrollable." _Oh God. No, not yet. Let me keep my humanity just a little longer. One more day, another hour, anything! Not yet!_ "For now, you must hunt." Aro said, and I could hear his smirk. But I knew, no matter how I resisted, I would not say 'no'. I could not. I wanted to soothe my throat, to stop this throbbing, to warm myself with someone's blood. I could not refuse myself. And I knew it would be the same every time. The minute I caught the scent of a human around me, I would allow myself one more kill. Just one more. But it would never end, for the rest of eternity, until all I knew was murder. Until I'd forgotten how to do anything else. Until lives no longer mattered to me. Until the end of the world.

I felt Alec's hand on my arm again, going to lead me out. With a dull sense of resignation, and something odd which was not quite sadness, I allowed him to take me from the room. I dreaded what would happen next. I longed for it. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was what I was meant to be. There was no going back now. I was made for this. I was about to become what I always knew I had been. At last, my father's daughter.

**_Ah, isn't she cheerful._**

**_Big thank you to Amber Swan, AbhorsenLirael and Muse-of-the-Night for reviewing! Also thanks to Hawktalon. of. Windclan and AntiAunty for the final reviews of 'Careful What You Wish For'. YAY! - 120 was the final count!  
No thanks, however, to Hazza606, who I stick my tongue out to and tell to stop reading! And if you say one word about my screen name, I'll personally come up to Birmingham and strangle you. And if you could please stop Jack from reading this, I'd be eternally grateful. Ugh, you'd think there'd be some kind of user blocking thing . . . Sometimes I really hate you two. Tehe._**


	5. First Blood

**_Sorry for the wait and the fact it's so short, I thought I'd try something of a new tone with my writing, so feel free to moan and complain you want my old style back, 'cause this is just an experiment. Hopefully it's good writing though. My English teacher is nagging us to_ 'consciously craft' _our writing, so I thought I'd give it a go. As a consequence Scarlet's character has changed slightly, but I intended that from the beginning anyway, since I think becoming a vampire is one of those things that changes you permanently. Anywho, hope you do like this style, because I think this is about the extent of my writing capability, so . . . enjoy!_**

There is one thing in a vampire's existence that keeps them going, keeps them strong. Every vampire needs it, especially a newborn, and when they are deprived of it – even for an hour or so – they start to crave. It starts off slowly; just a scratch, a tickle at the back of your throat you can't quite cough out. It gets worse. Suddenly your throat starts to feel very dry, rough and raw, and every breath you take feels like flames, scorching your already desiccated throat. Your body begins to pulse in the stagnant air, and you can only think of one specific thing. There's only one result when it gets like that. You know you need it, you know it's wrong, but you know nothing can stop you taking it.

Blood. It's the only thing that can satiate you. It was the only thing that I needed now. I could live forever without anything but it. And now its scent was thick in my nostrils. I barely noticed Alec by my side. Snarls were falling from my lips like the droplets of condensation I would have bet money on now being able to see. The fragrance was luscious. I could just imagine what it must taste like, sliding down my throat, dripping from my lips, absorbing me. There was only one problem. Its source.

The humans stood, terrified, huddled together as they quivered with fear and fascination. They studied me with the same intensity with which I studied them. What their quaking looked like to me was what I could not fathom. Each movement seemed bold and rather brash, yet laced with a kind of clumsy grace as they shook. I was transfixed by them, obsessed with them from the moment my eyes settled on their fragile forms. They were, undeniably, beautiful in their own right. Lurid was their browned skin and their wide eyes; a window to their soul and a fear, so deep it ached, was buried in their fierce gaze. Cowering . . . from me. I wanted to pull away; to scream until my voice deserted me. I wanted to flee until my legs gave out beneath me. But God, I wanted to jump. I wanted to feel their heart slow and their bodies fail in my arms. I wanted to feel their blood rushing over my tongue, running down my throat. I wanted to steal their warmth and feel it in my cheeks – feel their pounding blood flow through me. I wanted to feel the soft flesh of their neck beneath my mouth; so delicate, so flimsy, not made to stand this world.

I could kill. That knowledge washed over me like the thundering, freezing, water of falls. Suddenly, there was no hesitation within me. All doubts were forgotten, and I lost control of my body. I floated above and watched the scene play. I stood at the end of the hall, the girl pinned to my chest, her head bent over as she struggled. But my body took no notice of her feeble blows, its open mouth pressed against her neck, sharp teeth softly grazing the girl's skin. It felt like satin beneath my lips. Cold breath was heavy and fast as razor sharp teeth punctured. There was a harsh gasp and then I was smiling. My spirit – my body; the very lips, pulling the life from this girl with such vigour, curled up. I was no longer myself, I was a force; as natural as gravity or wind. Existing forever without being touched. I brought the girl's body closer. She was nothing now. She was what I wanted her to be, and this was her purpose. Everything fell into perfect place and I understood. Clarity was the virtue of new my race.

There was absolute silence around me, apart from a curious slowing beat that made my body ache and pulse. I could feel myself swaying, light on my feet. In her blood was dissolved all the hunger I had ever known. Everything I had ever wanted, needed, craved was insignificant in comparison to how I needed her. Everything I'd coveted was there in the taste and texture of it filling my mouth, slithering my throat with ease. Harder my mouth pressed against her skin, her soft scent enveloping me. And I was, at last, utterly at peace, completely satisfied.

In that one moment; the moment I felt her heart stop, it was clear. I was made to kill, I was a hunter, and they were my prey. I'd never felt so strong. I never felt so . . . connected. I was the air and the stone and the body in my arms. I flowed through them in this frail state of euphoria. I was intoxicated as I floated, weightless above them. I was insignificant; I was omnipotent. Invincible as I drank, as I killed. And then it was cold. And then it was dark. And I felt the cool air loft past me. I felt the body drop from my arms, a drop of blood falling from the corner of my mouth, and my own distant warmth.

For the longest time, I stood staring at her body, so still. So dead. She had been living; breathing just a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago she'd had a life. She'd had friends, a family; now all she had was the cold floor. I'd taken her from them, just as the Volturi had taken me from mine. I felt a new heat flush my pale features; the heat of fury at what they had made me. I found myself howling – tearing, clawing; at myself, at anything as I screeched. I was a murderer. And I felt _so_ powerful. Through the silence broke the call of Alec. I ignored him. He couldn't save me now. I'd gone too far. Not even Callum could pull me back from this. Nothing would ever undo what had been done this day. I could live forever with this knowledge.

The other humans had joined her now, lying still on the floor. I fell motionless staring at them with the most morbid fascination. Did I look like this to Callum, when my heart stopped? Did I look so fragile? Blank face, blank mind, limp limbs . . . Everything had disappeared. Everything that made them human – every bit of my humanity – was gone. And now a small hand rested on my shoulder as I fell to my knees, entranced by the sight of death; their dropping temperature, the stiffening of their flesh, the scent of decay that settled upon them; it was rancid to my nose. With a strange disgust that was not unlike obsession I watched them. For what felt like hours. "Scarlet." A soft voice called me back to the world. A hand lifted me gently to my feet. I stared at Alec, wondering how he was not as enthralled as I with these strange useless things. "You get used to it." He said in a tone not rough, but somewhat casual. Could I ever get used to such a thing? Within me there seemed to have happened profound shift, and whether I could ever become this change baffled me.

Callum, where are you? How did you cope? Was your first kill like this? Did you feel so powerful? Were you so apathetic? If I ever had any lingering doubts about whether I had any sanity left, this eradicated them. _Talking to the dead._ I lifted my face, ever so slightly to the ceiling – as if that's where he would be, as if he could answer my questions – and one singular thought ran through my mind as I did this. One thought that overrode everything else. One bitter thought. He had left me to deal with this on my own. He had left me to discover this new land without a guide. He had left me to these overwhelming emotions like wolves to tear me apart. I turned to the ceiling and thought with all my conviction,

_I hate you._

**_I had to put a tiny bit of Scarlet in at the end . . ._**

**_Please give me your honest-to-God opinions, and I'll try and write the next chapter accordingly._**

**_Thanks to Knn for your review! E-_**©**_ookie to you!_**


	6. Rules Are Made to be Broken

**_Very sorry for the wait, my internet was down. Good news is I'm over my writers block!_**

Alec brought me back to Aro not long after my first taste of blood. I still saw the dead girl's face before me. I didn't even know her name. My stomach twisted into a knot as I felt her blood sloshing about inside me, in time with my walk. A sickening feeling was growing within me. I felt sobs rise and fall, dying in my already dry throat before they reached my lips. There was no way I could live with this. No way could I stand this killing. Was there no other way to survive? But saying that, I knew that I couldn't resist the sumptuous scent of fresh blood, the pulsing that hung in the air, the knowledge that they couldn't fight me – I think there was something a little sadistic in my new nature. That worried me slightly.

Before I entered, Alec wrapped a blindfold gently around my eyes, apologising in a hushed voice as he took my arm, guiding me through. It was a smaller room this time, I could feel, and there weren't so many people around. I was only focused on Aro now. I could already separate his scent from the rest. It was almost dusty. He was moving forward, gliding towards me – the air was brushing past me in a way that suggested his movements. Carefully, he took my hand and I tensed, unsure of what he would do. He chuckled at my anxiety and simply held my hand for a moment, his skin inexplicably smooth, brittle; even slightly cold. "How I remember that first kill; the rush, the taste, the feel of life leaving body . . ." A note of wistfulness crept into his voice that made me shudder. And then glided away from me again. My hands balled into fists at my sides and my jaw clenched; I couldn't endure this. Couldn't endure him. "Now to the matter of your power – I cannot claim I know precisely what you managed to do to Jane and myself. However, it seems you put us in a state close to sleep. It really was a fascinating experience, one which I wish to study further.

"No one knows exactly why powers are given to a few of our species, but an old friend of mine had a plausible theory. I know dear Callum," My breath caught as his name was spoken and I fought not to collapse under the weight of this grief. It felt as though he had ripped a hole right through my chest and I couldn't move. I was falling apart. What had he done to me? He had no right to even speak his name! It was because of him he was dead. I would never forget that. A new resolve steadied my breath and made me stand firm. If it took the rest of eternity – which I now had – I would make him pay for this. A life for a life; that was fair right? More than fair since taking his had destroyed me also. But I had to wait. It would be foolish to try something so soon. I would let him train me; teach me how to use my ability, how to fight . . . Then one day.

He carried on, and I had almost forgotten what he had begun talking about; I was too consumed with a rage and a determination I had never felt before in life. "Speculated about the effect of your eyes. I presumed his mind was clouded with adoration, but it seemed he had observed something more than that. I, myself, did notice the depth of them as you were human. That effect seems to have been carried forward into your vampire life and amplified. As a result, I believe you are able to put vampires into a state of unconsciousness . . . A gift such as this is quite rare." He murmured with a kind of deep pleasure that caused me to shiver. He was a collector – that I heard in his voice as he spoke of gifts. With a note of longing. What had Callum's power been, I wondered. Alec could blind people, Jane could, frankly, torture them, and I guessed most others had a power of note. So what had been Callum's?

"Therefore, you could be of value to our little community and if you would like to stay we could help to train you and teach you how to use your unique power." A sneer I fought against as he said the word _'little'_. I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. He wanted to _collect _me. Fury filled me at the thought I ever might belong to such a callous creature, or in fact anyone. Still, silence prevailed and it was evident a question had drifted between us. Making the slightest of movements with my head, I inclined it in such a way that my answer was lucid. Yes. I would stay near them. Let them train me, teach me – and when I had the opportunity, I would strike; I would kill them. But my eyes glared fiercely into the blackness; I would never belong to him. Never. "Wonderful!" He cried jubilantly and I suddenly understood Felix's inside joke. He seemed absolutely oblivious to the malice contained in my mind.

"Now," He continued in a business-like manner, as if he intended to finish this conversation quickly. "We have three main laws that you must obey at all costs else your life shall be forfeit." At that my interest peaked. I needed to avoid suspicion, make sure they believed I would be no trouble. So I had to conform by their rules. Ha, conform. So not me. "Firstly, you must never expose your true nature to any humans other than those who work with us. That means: never making public displays of your speed or strength; never stepping into sunlight where you might be seen; having no interaction with outside humans other than to feed." He paused with a smirk in his voice, obviously amused with his statement for some bizarre reason. "Secondly, we do not tolerate any hunting in our city. If you wish to hunt for your food you must be outside city limits." As I made note of these, the casual word _'hunt'_ made me shiver. As if they were helpless animals to track, and not indeed humans.

"Finally, you must _never_ attempt to change a child into one of us. The consequences would be disastrous for all of us, and your life should surely be taken in punishment." At the mention of a child I turned a paler white than ever before. To bring a child into this world of darkness would be the ultimate act of cruelty – the ultimate riddance of humanity. There was no doubt I would mind that one. "Good." Aro beamed and I knew at once that our little talk was over. With that he breezed forward, brushing my hand as he past. That second changed everything.

I felt him freeze, his fingers still grazing mine. His muscles locked in place and slowly he moved just a fraction of an inch closer to me, so I felt his cold breath across my cheek. "Scarlet," He began in a voice that struck my stone heart with terror. A voice so piercing it could cut glass as it cut through to my core. "I understand your rage – your anguish, but I cannot abide these plans. You will drop this now, and I will say no more about it. But if I ever sense anything – any inkling that you will turn against us, ever again, I will not be so forgiving." It was clear that that was all he would say on the matter. But what were clearer still were his abilities. One touch and he saw my thoughts. He knew my deepest desires, fears, passions, wishes; my innermost anxieties and terrifying dreams. And what was worse, my absolutely insane thoughts. My _'Wizard of Oz'_ fantasy! That explains why he had laughed so much.

I – I hadn't remembered. I had thought something of the like before, when he had laughed. He had made references to my dreams. And I hadn't remembered. With a sudden horror, I realised that I could barely recall anything from my human life in detail. I knew what had happened to lead me here, sure, but I could not remember; the knowledge was instinctive, like how a child doesn't recollect how they learnt to speak, or that two comes after one. It is embedded in they're brain.

But that was not enough, not nearly enough, for me. I tried to picture Callum. His face, his laugh, his smile. The way his hair shimmered and swayed in the breeze. The cold, soft touch of his hand in mine. The feel of his lips against my neck, strong and safe and right. None of these things I could recall. All that I knew was that I had loved each one of them as I had loved everything about him. The memories themselves were buried, deep at the bottom of the murkiest swamp, the size of a pin-head. Lost to me. Forever.

They were all I had left of him.

All I had left and they were gone. Faded memories and faded scent that clung so feebly to the fabric of his- my cloak. How was this fair? Nothing had turned out the way I had dreamt; my story had not got its happy ending, and it never would – because now I had nothing. Nowhere in my story had it said to find the love of my life and then lose him in the same day. I fell to my knees. Ignoring or ignorant of those that surrounded me, or of Alec's hand, resting gently on my shoulder, I sobbed. Cries ripped through my chest, drying my throat and tearing my vocal chords with their sheer volume. I didn't care if they saw me now; weak, broken. That was who I was now. Now, not even purpose drove me. I could never form a plan against them with Aro inside my mind. All that remained for me was death. I just had to find a way to get it.

**_Massive thanks to BlueSugar for my one and only review for my last chapter . . . I thought it was a good chapter . . .  
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**_Hahaha, guilt trick! Did it work?_**


	7. Death is a Dance to an Unending Song

**_Sorry once again for the wait, I would have had it done much sooner, but I have several pieces of coursework I have not yet done . . ._**

Rule numero uno; _'do not reveal your true nature to any outside humans else your life shall be forfeit'_. I didn't have enough control to get near a human without, well, draining every drop of blood in their body – which ruled out telling them face to face. And I didn't really want to frighten the poor people, so I couldn't show them how strong and fast I was. That left one option. Stepping outside in sunlight. I really had no idea what it would do; if I would turn to dust or catch fire or change into some gruesome demon. I didn't feel particularly like I had a demon inside, but the ever-religious Elli had said that the devil didn't let you know when he was working through you. Or maybe that's just a line in _'Carrie'_. The point was I had no idea what my true nature was. Apart from the dying I was quite looking forward to seeing what happened. I just had to get away from them somehow.

The fact that someone was constantly watching was beginning to get on my nerves a bit. I felt like a child again. Usually it was Alec. Him I didn't mind so much. He was quiet and always thoughtful, and he rarely spoke. It seemed he had gotten over his first hatred of me. Felix I had taken an instant dislike to. He reminded me too much of the boys at my old school. Loud, quite obnoxious and relatively irritating at the best of times. Not that he wasn't friendly. He was too friendly. Like an older brother. But I'd only just met him. It felt . . . wrong. Besides, I rather resented him for not letting me die in peace. Jane was the worst. She'd use any excuse she could to inflict her gaze on me. For some reason she truly hated my being, just as I could not explain what it was about her that I so loathed. I never screamed though. I could lie almost still as she tried to force me out of my mind. I'd been to hell and back and survived. I'd lost everything I'd ever wanted and lived on. I'd endured the anguish and the guilt and the fire of change, and I'd kept going. Nothing would ever make me scream again. Nothing she did now could break me. You couldn't break what had already been shattered to pieces.

Regardless of my guard, I knew I had to escape. But not without letting them notice. Alec was with me today. He was sitting quietly in a comfortable looking armchair with a book in hand. Every so often he would glance up at me as if to ask a question, but then turn his gaze sharply to the dried pages of the ancient book. I was meant to be concentrating. Today, I was testing my senses. Aro trusted me to push myself, and stay on task – mostly because he'd know if I hadn't. But I had other things on my mind today than counting how many rats in the castle. I waited first for Alec to glance at me once more, safe in the knowledge he would not look up again for around five minutes unless he was disturbed. His senses were keen, I knew, but I had worked out a way to deceive him. I had been sitting absolutely still and silent for the past half hour, forcing myself not to breathe. I knew he would hear every movement. Gently I slid my robe from my shoulder, propping it up on a nearby stool, which may fool a quick glance. By now a week had past and the fabric was saturated in my scent – enough of it to mislead even vampire smell for at least a minute or two.

I rose to my feet without a sound and stood as stone for a second before moving swiftly out of his view. Behind him I waited again to see if he would notice. A smile crept across my lips as I realised I could elude him. I could steal across rooms under their noses - unobserved. That feeling of power came over me again. The feeling that I could, in fact, kill them if I wished. Although, I still wasn't sure what actually killed us. Stake through the heart? Beheading? Sunlight? Garlic? Fire – well, probably. Um . . . other vampire blood? Holy water? What had they used to kill Callum? I'd bet it was fire. I almost let out a small giggle, remembering how cool I thought it'd be to die in a Lamborghini crash. Suddenly, I found myself wondering what had happened to his car. It would be a shame to waste it . . . And no doubt it'd still smell like him.

But my thoughts were digressing and my near-laugh had reminded me of where I was; what I was doing. I was so easily distracted these days. My eyes were glazed as I glanced back at Alec one last time before fleeing with light feet and heavy heart. I knew I'd never see anything to remind me of _him_ again. I didn't have time to go back to the forest, though my body ached for it. They would notice I was gone before I reached it. I could feel the beating sun just outside the castle ruins. I longed to step into the light. It was midday, and light was streaming through the arrow slots which I had been so careful to avoid, unwilling to be burned. Instead, I wound my way forward to the more popular parts of the ruins – the parts that really were tourist traps. I crept stealthily through the narrow passage ways, scaling the stone walls to reach higher parts of the castle. I had a plan.

A new power and potent welled within me as I edged toward the roofs. A power over myself. I wasn't helpless. Not yet. There was one thing the Volturi couldn't take from me; my will, my thoughts, my determination. They could keep me in cages, subdue me, blind me and bind me, but where there's a will there's a way. And there was always a will within me. They couldn't keep me forever. I would get out somehow, and force them to end it. By now Alec would have realised I was gone. I could picture his frantic searching. He'd be punished for this, I knew. And I was genuinely sorry for that, but it couldn't be helped. I was tired. Tired of mourning, tired of thirsting, tired of killing, tired of living. After fifteen years, I'd tired of the world. Again I felt the typical teenager, when I was anything but. I'd seen enough to know how the world worked. To know how truly deformed the face of it was. I couldn't bear the sight of it any longer. Yet beauty within the ugliness did exist. In the shine of a tear dropping from the corner of an infants eye, or the fall of a leaf browned by autumnal light. In the sigh of a weary woman or the terrified cadence of her heart's last beats. Beauty was untouchable. It existed in the midst of broken things, in the midst of this scrambled life, so clumsily held together by half-truths and lies.

Only now my eyes were opened to it. It made the world too much a sorrowful thing. It made the world too much to bear. It made my body ache for all the suffering of every creature in every land and every home. It made me realise how very alone we all are. We live and die that way. Our minds are closed and so we can never really know each other. Never really know our friends, families, our anything. All we have is ourselves, our own thoughts and minds that hold us. It made jealousy a painful stab at my gut every time I thought of Aro's power. He alone could truly say he knew a person. Yet alone he was still alone as no one could say the same of him. I thought he must have been ever more the isolated as his power placed a void between him and any other person.

But still beauty made the world a hard place to leave, as I tried to tear my eyes from the cracks and crevices in the walls, the darkness that hid secrets and the fragility of beating hearts that thudded now not far from me. I was close. Too close. My throat was once again aflame with the scent of humans. Fresh blood. My mouth dried. I had fed yesterday. I had made sure of it. And still the fire scorched me. I craved them. Craved the feeling of their pulsing bodies pressed against me, their sweet blood soothing my throat, their warmth that faded so reluctantly, and the feel of their struggling; their fight to stay alive, knowing it was futile. I had known it would be difficult but I had no idea how much so. I knew I couldn't get any closer to them. I didn't relish the thought of slaying innocents needlessly. I stopped breathing.

I heard the footsteps of another vampire approaching and knew that I had to act quickly. Digging my nails into the wall, my deft feet finding footholds with ease, I pulled myself up the wall with exhilarating simplicity. It came naturally now. I scaled the wall swiftly and was at the top before I could realise just how high up I was. The footsteps became louder and I knew they were close. But they couldn't stop me now. I was just a few steps from my death. The shadow seemed to stretch out in never-ending darkness as I gazed towards the light of the sun. As soon as I had thought the gesture, I was standing, my toes at the line between light and dark, marvelling at my own speed.

And this was it. My death waited. I could hear Alec climbing the wall, but I paid no attention. He couldn't stop me now. I was stronger than any of them; stronger than all of them. My feet nudged the barest millimetre closer. A smile spread across my lips. Death, my cloaked lover, was waiting with open arms to embrace me – as he had been since the first day I set eyes on his bringer; my angel, my immortal. And then the soft singing of my mind began, as the song played its sweet melody. It seemed so appropriate. Even the name spoke of Callum. And as I stepped into the sun one more line made perfect sense. The way my skin shone in the sun – it was . . . _captivating._

Glittering sparkles, shattered and refracted the light, like droplets on an ivory web. I looked almost delicate as I stood, poised in the sunlight, my face composed in a small smiled as I realised I was seconds away from my wish. My head turned slightly to the azure sky with an air of anticipation. It was quite literally awe-some. The atmosphere was crystal clear disparate to the clouds of the day of my actual death. I felt the sun's warmth touch my skin, brushing it with the slightest hint of heat. Suddenly cold arms were pulling me away, back into the shadows. I stood, rooted to the ground, fighting against their pull, but a sudden jerk brought me back to the darkness. I turned, snarling, to see Alec, his face almost pleading. "If you expose yourself, I'll be punished too." He said in a low soft voice, his shining crimson eyes meeting mine. For a long moment I searched his child-like face. He looked so uncannily innocent. And though I knew it to be a joke, a mockery of all truly young and sweet, it seemed as though he was a helpless child. It was strange to know that he was older than I when his face spoke of such naivety. For whatever feeling it was this 'lost-child' look conjured in me, I stepped further into the shadow, and with one longing look over my shoulder at the sunlight, I said my goodbyes and made my way back to the world of demons and darkness, for good.

I guessed I would have to find a less harmless way to die, one bound to work. One that wouldn't hurt what past for the innocent amongst vampires, amid the darkness.

**_Okay, okay, pretention galore, but meh._**

**_Okay, yes, I was listening to_ 'My Immortal'_ when I wrote that paragraph, but it seemed appropriate.  
. . . I think someone needs to slap Scarlet. She should get over herself . . .  
. . . And this coming from the writer . . ._**

**_Anywho, a MASSIVE thanks to Hawktalon. of. Windclan for your review, and as always I will reveil no details of the future plot (other than it will be quite funny at one point . . . hopefully), but I will say that this is set after Breaking Dawn, when Renesmee has grown up.  
And don't worry, we're all kind of busy this time of year._**

**_Another thanks to Renesmeecarlieswancullen2 for your review of CWYWF. Final final count, most likely, 121!_**


	8. The Beautifully Ugly

**_Heya, sorry for the wait again. Haha, I had good fun writing this chapter._**

* * *

Felix lay on the ground, uncharacteristically still, and a satisfied smirk rested on my lips. "Wonderful!" Aro cried with his usual enthusiasm. Alec looked up from his book – from what I could gather from his reading selection, he was learning French – and offered a small smile of encouragement. He had almost gone out of his way to be cordial to me after my little walkabout. Aro knew, of course, though he had not mentioned aloud. I suppose he trusted that Alec would not be so easily deceived again. Not after the harsh 'word' he had with him. Alec had not been my guard for very long periods at a time since. Aro did not trust him to watch me, nor did he trust me to do as I was told. He knew I was determined not to.

Today was different though, today I actually didn't mind what we were doing. Today, I was testing my power. Aro had instructed Felix to fight against it as long as he could, and instructed me to try to control how long he slept for. Not much success on either of those points. Felix had collapsed within the first ten seconds, and I highly doubted I would be able to affect how long he slumbered. It was incredibly fun watching him drop to the floor with a deafening clang, though.

So far we established that my power was most potent when I was distressed or incensed. I had already knocked Jane out for several hours after being subjected to a full one of her torture. It was a test of endurance, Aro had said, though it did not lessen the odium that I felt for it. How sadistic it was, to torture someone needlessly. With every prick of pain, every twinge, and every lick of flame, I hated him more. And he must have known that. But the odd thing was, I honestly did not believe he hated me. Despite the agony he put me through, giving me no choice, punishing me for a crime I did not commit, I could sense no abhorrence from him. Only a vague sensation of the most distant affection. It was . . . unsettling. But somehow, I knew that he would never loathe me as I loathed him. Somehow I knew that no matter what I did he could not hate me. There was something behind his smile, not unlike recognition, which would always stop him from detesting _me_. But this could not ease my mind. I still felt as if I did not belong. I had waited a full fifteen years for this world, and it was not at all as I expected. Something was . . . wrong. I knew what it must be. And yet I felt myself filled with revulsion at my own pathetic state. I hadn't known Callum a full week. Not really. How could I say I loved him? What gave me the right to mourn his death so entirely? It was ridiculous, pointless, stupid, and yet I could not help myself. Part of me had been torn out and I could not replace it, though I didn't know why it should hurt me so deeply. I didn't understand.

_Mùirn beatha dàn._ Half of a whole. I felt childish just thinking of it. But there hadn't been a day since I had met Callum that I hadn't thought of him, wished I was with him, longed for him to kiss me. I was willing to die just for the experience of meeting him! And somehow, inexplicably, he seemed to have felt the same. When he had thought me dead, he had rebelled, even ending his own life. And now I felt . . . hollow. As if half of me had just disappeared. My core as cold as the skin that contained it. It made perfect sense. It made none. And maybe that was the most perfect of senses. Because humanity isn't rational. You would kill to save a loved one, and let five die instead of taking one life. Logic simply does not exist, and a genuinely logical mind is not human.

Perhaps, that is what years of isolation will teach me. A clinical view of the world and a detachment that will mean no pain or hurt or loss or love, and the ability to be decisive when others cannot. And I longed for this sweet embrace of apathy. Because I could not breathe, move, nor speak without thought of the kill, the guilt and remorse, and all the lives I will take in one eternal lifetime. I found myself thinking more and more how it must have been by design that we were made to withstand forever as if we ever did die we would surely be cast into the deepest circle of hell, were their one. In this way, the flames of change resembled some kind of earthly purgatory, as our slates were wiped clean for far greater sins. And to say we were made by design must mean there was a greater plan to this, but I could not see it. I could not understand. How could a God do this to its people? Make them so fragile they can barely survive their own world and then create one to run parallel to it, built to destroy it with the greatest of ease. If we chose we could rule this world, bring it to its knees and burn all creation for our own amusement. And a part of me longed to do this. To show them the true face of cruelty. To punish them for wasting their humanity, as I did. Pining for something greater.

No, there is no God. But perhaps there is a devil, dancing in the moonlight and taunting us with promises of redemption. Perhaps the invention of religion was his work also, as almost all crimes were committed in its name. And perhaps we were all on the road to hell, paved with good intentions. And according to Good Omens dead sales representatives, or something of the ilk. A brief smile crossed my lips as I recalled the book. It had always put me in a good mood.

Now, it seemed, that was impossible and that I should be dejected always. Aro, on the other hand, was vivified by my abilities, and, no doubt, how they could help him. He had lapsed into silent thought a moment before; I think he had realised I was not listening. At any rate, he was studying me curiously. But I had become accustom to the prying gape of others. It seemed I was an object of some interest, at least. I had begun to wonder whether any of these virulent vampires had actually met a newborn before, other than their infantile selves. I found myself despising them more with each passing day. Their perfectly dazzling smiles, and perfectly sculpted bodies, and voices so perfectly wrong. How they did not collapse from guilt was so very far beyond me. Optimism and callous remorselessness were two very different things, and it did not take one of superior intellect to identify which they lived with.

"Come with me." Aro said abruptly, his voice soft, and I stood. There was no point in defying him so openly. My foot steps echoed as I walked through the halls, following him, gliding as the ghost I was. I no longer felt the need to ask questions. Inquisitiveness, I had discovered was a pointless venture. Aro simply smiled serenely, those pined for answers never passing his lips. Such was the infuriation that it was better to refrain from phrasing the questions that floated in your head. Blank face, blank mind – that was what was expected of you here. Follow without questioning. I'd never been that type, but I was learning.

Aro breezed into a rather large room with but a single piece of furniture at the back and I trailed after him. A full length mirror stood solitarily at the end of a candle-lit room. Not a streak of the natural day was to be found in there and subsequently not a plant thrived in this squalor. Dust so thick my feet left prints, lay on the icy floor. Amid the dirt and grime rats huddled, terrified, in corners, hissing their vindictive and voracious thoughts. The walls had cracks so deep I doubted the structural integrity of the room – and heavy, musk-thickened, air and dull grey veneer of stone gave the distinct impression that the room had not been used in many years. And I knew why.

In a second I was a foot from the mirror, its gleaming face unmarred by the dirt that infected the rest of the room and even its frame. The flickering candles played on its shimmering silver surface, incandescent as imaginary winds swayed them. And there in the centre of the mirror was the mirage of a person. Human, she was not. That much was clear. So terribly beautiful she stood, statuesque. Black as night hair hung in curtains around her perfect face, straight and smooth yet unruly in a peculiar way. Skin as pale as the purest of paper – paler still than even my own; lips sweetly shaped, full and elegant and a deep shade of scarlet; flawlessly angular cheek bones; and a pointed chin that looked both strong and delicate. And her eyes: they were so piercing. As red as her lips, beneath full black lashes. Deadly and sorrowful and enchanting. _Terrifying_. And still there was something so repulsive about her.

It was not anything tangible. In truth, I could find no fault in her astonishing appearance. And truthfully, she could stand proudly besides these vampires, looking nothing other than in perfect place. She was achingly beautiful. But something was _so_ wrong. There was something so fragile about her. So breakable. So _broken._ Something so sickening that I turned in disgust away. I could not bear the image of her. It made me want to sob. I could feel my hands tearing at my throat, clawing, once again, at my own face, as though trying to tear it off. Screeching and screaming and shrieking. Writhing as I tried to escape my own body. This wasn't me. It couldn't be.

But the hallucination of the girl stood still strong and tranquil. And she had not so much as inclined her head from where she had first gazed back at me. The mirror did not see deep enough to see the chaos that raged within – to see the frightened girl, literally ripping herself to shreds. It saw only the perfect illusion of equanimity. I wanted so much to smash its surface so it would torment me no longer, but a smirking voice was calling me back from this realm. Back to where the rats gathered and the candles flickered, and the world turned.

". . . Seems it does not work on yourself. I suppose that is to be expected." Aro sighed deeply. I turned, with incredible reluctance, away from the girl, to look at him, an eerie smile creeping across my face, though I could not say why.

"Can I go now?" I asked coldly. I did not wish to spend a moment longer trapped in that room with the dust and rats and that dreadful mirror. With a curt gesture he nodded and I brushed past him, trying desperately to hold onto what little composure I still possessed. And when I had escaped the room and the gaze of my _master_ (though I knew he was not far from me), I collapsed. No sobs rose to my distinct surprise. I just sat, staring blankly into space. I must have looked peaceful from the outside. Inside, I was trembling as an earthquake might. I was falling apart for the final time. Not only was my new façade utterly intolerable, but it was not me. Not a vestige of humanity was to be found within it and my heart quailed at the thought. But it was not simply that.

Callum had loved me, as I was when I was human. Not as a pristine, shining, glass object. So much had changed and now to find this. To find that I was no longer who I knew, no longer myself . . . it was too much.

At that moment I knew I had to die. I could not wait anymore. Rising to my feet, I ran with no plan in mind. But I knew before the night had met its end, I would have met mine. A sigh of contentment breathed from my lips as I ran. I was so incredibly tempted to shout _'So long suckers!'_

* * *

**_The last line is for my own good - to stop it being too depressing.  
Hahaha, she's going completely bonkers, isn't she?_**

**_Sorry, I completely forgot! Big thanks to Hawktalon. of. Windclan and AllApologies451994 for their awesome reviews! Really, very sorry I forgot to mention it._**

**_Pretty please review! It doesn't take long, and it always makes me grin : )_**


	9. Bambina Diavolo Mia

**_I know, I know, it's too short, but if I'd incorporated the next chapter in it it would have been at least another week before you got it._**

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I could hear the heavy fall of footsteps behind me. They must have guessed my intention. But I moved too fast for them – I could outrun them, outfight them and outwit them. Because they had no real reason to fight. I wanted to die. It was my sole objective, and my mind ran on instinct. Ever heard of the strength of the insane? Whoever came up with that saying had obviously never seen their speed. I ran, gleefully fleeing their grasp, eluding and their arm as and evading capture. I twirled and flipped, jumping over tables, chairs, anything that got in my way. Laughing as I went, I showed off my new skills with delight. Dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight as I ran, swift and sure footed, along the battlements. I had never felt so free – it was exhilarating. As I cart-wheeled over the narrow stone paths, my giggles echoed through the night. I was in love with my own abilities. There was a pure child-like joy in tumbling like the deftest of acrobats. It was a thousand times larger an emotion than I ever felt as a human. If I had felt this then my heart would have exploded. A grin formed on my face as I realised my beloved and I should so soon be reunited. The light rain fell softly on my shoulders, droplets staying perfectly formulated on my cold skin. I shook them off like a dog and flipped from the side of the castle and into the streets below.

The smell of humans was ubiquitous. I took no notice though. Strange as it was, it didn't bother me so much. I had my goal as I dashed through alleys, and nothing could distract me. Curtains twitched; my laughter was disturbing people. It was no surprise. It sounded forced, maniacal and utterly wild. If any human should have seen my expression, they may have died of fright. It was an expression of pure joy, not one often seen on humans. A grin so wide and the pupils of gleaming red eyes fully dilated. It was one of those faces that looked as if it belonged on a deranged clown. I barely realised I had begun swearing in as many languages as I knew at the top of my voice, though it sounded melodic and jubilant. And it was a few minutes before I realised that I was not just swearing in general: I swearing at the Volturi. "Cazzo si! Tomba wewe! Fuck you!" I screeched with pleasure. The fun I was having was endless.

My footsteps finally slowed at the end of a road, as I recognised the silence around me. I was alone. At last. I felt for the first time since my change that I could breathe, though I knew full well it was unnecessary. Although, the silence was not silence. The pounding of hearts and rhythm of breath filled the air around me in a subtle song. And through this beautiful melody a lonely voice drifted to me, singing the soprano harmony. So sweet and innocent a voice;  
'_Can't even shout, can't even cry,  
__The Gentlemen are coming on by.  
__Looking through windows,'  
_It called to me through the night. Delightful and sorrowful, and somehow unaware of its own meaning. A new sense of purpose came over me as I moved through the streets, rushing to the voice. I needed it. I could not explain why. Stealthily I stole through gardens and alleys, over bushes and rooftops until I came to the top of a small house, overlooking a neatly kept garden. A bush of brilliant red roses grew near violets and lilies. A seductive mix of scents lingered in the air, making the scene of botanical beauty ever more enthralling. And playing in the short grass, were two, exquisite, children.

The roundness of their rosy cheeks was visible to me even in darkness; even at distance. Their small succulent limbs swayed in time to a beat of their own devising, as they played. A hush had fallen over me. So stunning was this scene of virtue that words fell short of my mouth. Watching their candid play, a terrible desire struck me. I would enchant them away and make them mine. A beautiful little family of children. A terrible coven of purity amongst the impure. Powerful and fearful and awe-inspiring. I was seized by the need to snatch them away – to cradle their warm and fragile bodies and sink my teeth into the soft and supple flesh of their neck.  
'_Knocking on doors,  
__They need to take seven,  
__And they might take yours,'  
_An old fairy tale, they were reciting. I remembered some distant, long forgotten, voice whispering it to me, as though to frighten me and turn my dreams to nightmares, though I could not remember anyone being so vindictive. It had terrified me as a child. But these broods were wild things, born of the modern age. Afraid of nothing, as they played at night – thinking that safety guarded them in their garden. Their parents were inside; I could hear them. A silent smirk snuck across my face. It was thrilling to have such power over someone – to know that your decision would invariably affect their lives. And a cold admiration of these fragile creatures ran through me, along with a kind of pity and disdain. I crouched, watching their slow and clumsy movements, captivated as though they were the most graceful of gestures though they seemed brash, to me, far too bold.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had slunk from the rooftops and was standing in the shadows, eyes glinting with a malevolent gleam, watching them with no clear plan in mind. It was strange, but I could not leave. It wasn't their scent. They blended in with every other human's within a five mile radius, and though it felt suddenly as if I had not drunk in years – my body aching with the thirst – it was not that which kept me there. It was them. Their odd movements and peculiar mannerisms. They were . . . fascinating, to say the least.

They were fighting now. I could tell, though their words seemed to pass through me without my hearing. The older one stormed back inside, leaving a small, quivering girl alone in the night. Her full pink lips formed a pout as she sat, cross-legged and arms folded, on the grass which tiny droplets of water clung to so feebly. She looked utterly laughable. A proper little madam. I could not help a whisper falling from me; a sweet lullaby to coax her near. Her head lifted and small face squinted with large russet eyes. Her caramel coloured curls swayed softly as she looked around to spot the offending voice. I uttered another hushed urge to approach; to seek me out. Cautiously she got to her feet and peered into the shadows – her petite features contorted in a look which was a mixture of terror and intrigue – and slowly, she stumbled forward.

She was close to me now. Her expression was uncanny. And her scent sung to me; a sweet and seductive song. I waited, standing as a statue, for as long as I could, until I could feel the heat emanating from her. Then I spoke, "Ciao bambina." Said I in a low, velvet voice.

"Ciao." She said nervously. Curious how she was afraid, yet she did not turn and run.

"Che cosa stai facendo qui di notte?" I asked, my voice soft and comforting, and somehow deadly. I seemed to remember more from my Italian lessons than I had ever thought.

"Ho avuto una lite con sorella mia." She mumbled sadly. I nodded though my face was still hidden. I could not risk her seeing my eyes. I knelt down to her level and opened my arms.

"É bene. Vieni qui, bambina mia." That was all it took, and her little arms were around my neck, hugging me. Humans must be so desperately stupid. Or perhaps I sounded like someone she knew. But my thoughts were hardly existent at all in that moment. Her warm skin smelt absolutely delicious and I buried my face in the silken skin of her neck. With a flash of teeth, a piercing scream punctured the night. But I didn't notice. Her blood was hot and sweet and salty. I heard nothing but the cadence of her hearts frantic beating. So young a life to take – and yet I didn't care. Life had never cared about me, no one had ever cared for me, so why should I care for it?

Floating weightlessly, I felt her blood pound through me as I pulled her fragile form closer. Nothing mattered now. Nothing ever mattered when I drank. Nothing but this feeling of invincibility. But a thought had crept into my mind. The thought of my little family. _Pull back, pull back._ It murmured, but I could not. I was too absorbed. _Pull back, pull back._ No matter how I tried – screaming at myself – my body would not respond and my lips stayed firmly pressed to her wound, drawing blood out of her with such voracity the flesh began to tremor. _Stop! Pull back, pull back. Stop!_ And her heart would not give in. It beat, futilely refusing to fail. Growls erupted around me, and I knew I was no longer alone. I did not really think they would leave me to such an act. They did not pull me back though as a symphony of muffled screams filled the air. They may have been calling my name. I could not tell. Soon silence surrounded me once more and the girl's heart began to wane and falter. Again, I tried to stop – to pull away and condemn her. But her blood was so delectable. I drank until her body fell limp and I let her fall from my arms. Then all hell broke loose.

Their faces were a picture of malice and ire. I drew myself up though, and looked Aro in the eyes. He did not meet my gaze. He knew better. I knew in a second that they would not grant me my wish. They would not kill me for this, though I did not know why. Fury bubbled at the thought, but I stood perfectly still. A chorus of hisses sounded me from all sides. I knew I was to suffer for this. A slow satisfied smile stretched across my face. If they thought I would beg for forgiveness they had another thing coming.

* * *

**_Yes, okay, that is the poem from 'Hush' - Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which, sadly, I do not own), but I love it.  
And I was listening to the music from 'Hush' while I wrote most of this.  
And she really has gone insane. Hahahahahaha, it's fun to write._**

**_Umm, no thanks to give out today : (  
Hopefully I will next update . . ._**


	10. The Fairytale that is My Life

**_Sorry for disappearing again. I'm afraid I may soon give up on this story since no one seems to be reading it, but I thought I would post this chapter as I had nearly finished it when I decided I may give up._**

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It had been nearly three months since the disappearance of the six year old, Alicia Corvacio, and her family. The police had found nothing, unsurprisingly. But they didn't need to punish the person responsible. She, I was already living in my own private hell. And I had already been punished. With hours of literal torture. Burns would have covered my body had I been human. Scars had, indeed, been etched into my skin. Crescent moon shapes that resembled the wound left by a human bite. Of course, no mark marred my skin to mark the worst of the tortures. Jane took a vindictive pleasure in punishing me. She thought I was to die. A smirk came to my lips even now, recalling the look on her face as she realised Aro was not going to kill me. I still didn't understand quite why. But since then she had tried her very hardest to entice me into fighting her – so she could have an excuse to kill me. If she could. But I, frankly, didn't care. She could have pulled my hair, spat on me, called my father a bastard, my mother a whore and myself a bitch, and I really wouldn't have cared less. I think they were under the misapprehension that anything they did actually mattered to me in the slightest. They'd killed me now, in one way at least.

Now she actually had an excuse to fight me. Today we were working on technique after my long span in 'solitary'. Aro had insisted on a demonstration first. Jane's eyes were alight with a malicious smirk as she ducked and dodged Felix's punches. He didn't fight as I expected. He was much more graceful – you would imagine someone of his size to be clumsy and oafish. It was quite an odd sight. With the greatest of accuracy he plunged his fist into Jane's stomach. She doubled over, only for a second, before leaning back a delivering a kick that sent Felix flying backwards. As quickly as he had fallen, she was pinning him down, teeth bared. If I had felt enough to laugh, I would have. A tiny girl pinning down a full grown man. It really was ridiculous. "I win." She said softly with a satisfied smirk on her smug face."What do you think Snowy?" Felix chuckled, turning his head. He had taken to calling me Snow White recently. Just when I had thought he could not become more irritating. He said it was because of my deathly pale skin, black hair and red lips. And no matter how I protested I was not, in fact, a fictional character, he insisted he did not care.

"I think it's all a bit crouching kitty, hidden lizard, if you ask me." I remarked dryly as if I had not been the vaguest bit interested in the fight, though it was rather amusing.

"No," He laughed, "Who won?"

"Jane." I said with a certain bluntness.

"Damn." He looked back to Jane, grinning like an idiot. "Alright, you win."

"Obviously." She said with a glare that could have cut glass. He simply continued to smirk as if he had allowed her to win. Jane hissed through her teeth, evidently fuming that he was not more impressed by her skill. She straightened up and turned to me, a challenging sneer on her face. "Well then _Snowy_ do you feel up to fighting me?"

"Of course, Witch." Or something that rhymed with it anyhow. She snarled and shot forward, aiming a punch at my face. I ducked with ease and stuck out my leg to know her over. I was a quick learner. I found, though I could never be what they wanted, I could be an outstanding mimicry. She jumped slammed her fist into my chest. I lost my breath momentarily, but a grin formed on my lips, knowing I had no need of it. I feigned pain and, as she gloated and moved in with a sadistic contentment to finish the fight, I jumped over her head so I was behind her and gave her one almighty shove. Across the room she skidded and smashed into the stone wall with a thundering jolt. Snarls filled the room, not only from the Witch now. She turned back to me, her eyes black with rage. I could feel my own eyes darken as I hissed. We both knew now that this was no longer a game. We would kill each other if we got the chance. I drew my guard up and suddenly she was at my throat, her teeth gnashing. I held her back, just barely, as she tried to sink her 'fangs' into me. Her small arms reached forward to claw at me but I darted backwards. She hissed again, frustrated. I ran around her in a blur, kicking at her legs. They fell from beneath her and for a second she was on the ground, but no longer. In flurry of fists and dodges, her punch crashed into my jaw line, sending my head slamming backwards. I lost my balance for a spilt second with the force of the blow – and she took full advantage of this. She kicked my legs from under me and I fell to the ground. She pounced. Pinning me down, she began to tug fiercely at my arms as if to rip them from my sockets. I gritted my teeth with pain and lifted my head, sending it colliding into hers. The impact disorientated us both, but her grip loosened for a just moment and I pulled my arms from her grasp. I punched her with as much force as I could conjure. It knocked her back enough for me to escape. A rage-filled roar rung in the room and in an instant I was on the ground.

Pain flooded every inch of my body as I lay twitching. I pressed my lips into a tight line to stop a scream from breaking out. My teeth grinded together as I clenched my muscles. I was shaking on the cold floor, my bones clicking and contorting – warping my body into something new. Though I had learnt not to scream, I had not gotten over the immense sense of agony Jane could inflict. I felt myself splitting open, turning inside out. A new pulse pounded through me and with each beat a fresh surge of pain spread through me. And with each surge my loathing of her tripled. One day I would kill her. One day I would put her through this. I doubted she could cope. If I was still mortal I would have been begging for death by now – but I was not and in my new mind, my capacity for pain was infinite. But with the heightened pain came a sense of detachment. I could appreciate the sensation. Sometimes I felt as though pain was the only true thing I could feel any more. It grounded me to the present.

"Jane! Enough!" A harsh melodious voice called through the mists of torture. And then it was gone again – and then I was empty again. Slowly, I opened my eyes to see an irate Jane, glaring fiercely at me as though she was toying with me and the pain would return at any moment. I almost flinched in anticipation of it, but the image of her delight if I were to do so, stopped me. I lifted myself to my feet and returned her gaze with an equal measure of malice. Her eyes quickly flickered down. How she hated my power. I think she was used to intimidating people with her eyes – the fact it would not work on me, more than that; the fact I could send her to the ground, irked her more than anything else. Which, naturally, amused me no end.

Aro stood by the Witch with anger painted all over his face. "How is she to learn, pray tell, if you simply torture her?" He hissed. A smirk twisted on my lips as she was reprimanded.

"Sorry Master." Jane said, almost reluctantly, although her tone was perfectly courteous. It was not advisable to show any resentment or reluctance in following Aro's orders. The Volturi did not look kindly on it. I, of course, ignored that advice pointedly and completely. That, they did not like. It was rather fun, actually, watching my 'colleagues' faces – astonished that I dare to speak to him like that. He laughed at me when I did. Which, of course, irritated me very much. It was as if he continued to underestimate; as if he knew better than me, that I would come to my 'senses'. I hissed softly between my teeth, just thinking of his patronising smile.

"Good." Aro said curtly and turned to me, "Scarlet, you may return to your chambers now." I bit my tongue to keep from saying _'Oh may I? You're so kind'_. That really wouldn't go down well. And I knew Jane took any insolence personally. I had no wish to experience her torment again today. With a tight jaw, I nodded and began to wind my way through the corridors. I no longer needed to be escorted everywhere. I may have been trusted more since the harsh punishments of my last escape attempt, or I may have been tracked silently. I didn't care to find out which. Aro knew how it vexed me that I was constantly with someone. I think he thought that if I was given a little bit more breathing room, I would be a little bit more co-operative. He was right – I did not feel the need to run as much, now that I was not so trapped.

I took the long route back; it felt nice to wander around as if I was not being watched. Still, I quickly arrived at a small, semi-circular room that had come to feel more like a prison to me than a living space. I had taken to calling it a 'living space' because I couldn't exactly call it a bedroom. There were but two pieces of furniture at the side of the room. The first was a delicately carved wooden chair, with tattered cushions, dark from age and dirt more than anything else. The varnish had faded from the wood, leaving it pale where it had undoubtedly once been a glossy auburn. It was splintered and looked as if it might collapse under the slightest weight. It stood near the second piece, which was a small cluttered desk, littered with books and discarded pieces of paper. A few pens lay amongst the small amount of paraphernalia my life had been reduced to. There were a few drawings and notes scribbled upon the papers. Apparently the Volturi, great and powerful as they were, had never heard of the computer. I think I was getting withdrawal symptoms from not being online for so long. Though it was far from my most pressing problem, I found my fingers tapping on an imaginary keyboard. It was tiresome having to write everything out by hand, and my hand could never keep up with my mind – I'd always end up skipping to the next sentence halfway through the first. If anyone read the scribbles on these dust layered papers, they wouldn't have made much sense.

I walked in grudgingly and drew the door closed, not that it would make much difference to any vampire wanting to know what I was doing. They could hear every movement I made. As could I. I lay back on my elbows, staring at the ceiling as the dampness of the floor seeped through my cloak, and attuned my ears to the murmurings of the building, as had become my habit. Gradually, the low rhythm filtered through the walls. First the overture of beat and breath of humans, scalding my throat. Then the percussion of foot upon stone floor. Then the murmuring hiss of an undertone; words spoken softly across rooms. Finally the brass of training – fights and punishments that echoed through the hollow halls.

The percussion and brass, and above all the overture, I blocked out, focusing only on the conversations whispered in low tones. It was similar to the continuous sound of white noise at first, and then voices began becoming more distinct. I could hear Alec and Aro muttering jumbled words, I could not quite make out. I concentrated and a frown etched itself into my forehead – more out of custom than anything else. I closed my eyes and faded out all other senses, stopping my breathing in order to commit my full attention to their conversation, until I picked out a few words. Soon I could just make out all that they were saying.

"_. . . She seems to have calmed down. Perhaps now would be a good time to move her."_

Came Aro's voice, crashing through the rhythm of every other sound.

"_I fear if she is relocated, she may become uneasy once again."_

That was Alec's voice, I was certain.

"_Better she is out of the way here and uneasy somewhere else. She needn't know where she is or where she is going – so there should be no logic in running."_

"_But if she is to turn against us again, surely it would be better to have the whole coven deal with her?"_

"_I have faith you will keep her in line, Alec. I would send her with your sister, but they seem to hate each other."_ I could hear a small chuckle escape Aro's lips. _"I fear they would kill one another."_

"_You are right, of course you are right."_ Alec sighed. _"When will we depart?"_

"_Soon. I trust you will not let me down again, Alec."_ He said in a deadly voice. _"If she exposes us again, I will be holding you personally accountable."_ I went pale. Well, paler. If that was even possible. It was me. They were going to take me somewhere. The thought made me shiver.

"_Of course. I will not fail this time."_

I could not leave here. Everything was here. My family, my friends . . . even if I could never see them again. All I knew was here, and everything else in this new life was so foreign. And Callum. He had died here. He had died for me. Here. I couldn't – I wouldn't leave him. There was no way. If only . . . if I made it so that they couldn't trust me to go: acted up so they had to watch me carefully. And if they would kill me, even better. Either way, it was my only option.

The second law – never to hunt in Volterra. It was my only choice. I had no wish to be tortured as I was when I chose a child, and I did not think that exposing my nature would be a big enough offense. If anything that would make it more likely for me to be sent somewhere remote. No, I needed to hunt – it would not waste any more lives than I would already take. My head lifted and turned sharply to the left. I needed to go. Now, before other red eyes fell upon me. Swiftly, I was on my feet and running like a ghost through the halls. The last resort, my only option; a death to stay, a death to die. My last chance.

* * *

**_I have a poll on my page if you want to tell me to continue, or if you want to tell me that I should just leave it here. Or else, pm me or review leaving your opinion._**


	11. Hello Tomorrow, Goodbye to Yesterday

**_I know, it's been a long wait, but no one's reading this anyway so oh well._**

I was running without looking back. I knew they would be following me, but I made no effort to listen for them. I didn't care. They knew they wouldn't reach me in time anyway, though they couldn't know my intention. Not yet. I ran with an increasing anger. _How dare they try to move me without even telling me?_ As much as this was for practical reasons, it was also to show them once again that they did not own me. Into the night I fled with my cloak flapping behind me in the wind I created with the sheer speed of my run. The night was beautiful, clear and a shade of dark blue that must have appeared black to humans. The stars glistened in the velvet of the night air. I could have stopped in my tracks, and just stared up at them, trying desperately to feel the presence of everyone I had ever lost. I had to believe in something after death now. How could I not, when it was all I had?

With this in mind, I cut through the night, making straight for the scent that scalded my throat more than any other I had smelt since my first kill – since I had become vampire. Blocking out all others, I was soon hovering at the edge of an alleyway, my throat raw; for just across from me a group of humans were laughing and joking around, just outside a small bar that back in England would have been called a pub. "Oh William, William, dove per sei, William?" One mocked in a fake falsetto voice, messing with a young man's bright blond hair.

"Stai zitto!" The man replied, obviously annoyed.

"Oh Mills, ti amo!" Another teased. They appeared to be acting (rather badly) out a Romeo and Juliet scene in order to make fun of the boy called William.

But I had frozen. I had frozen as soon as I saw the glimmer of bright blond hair. As soon as I saw the boy, just a few years older than myself. And when I heard his name I trembled. The scent . . . it was coming from him. Why did it have to be him? Why could he not have been home just for once?! I couldn't ignore the throbbing in my throat, nor could I bring myself to harm him. Harm my only friend through the time I lived so near to this city. My only defender until Callum, and my first kiss – even if I hadn't wanted him to be. How could fate be so cruel? I turned slowly, looking for other means to satiate my thirst. He could not be the only option.

But it was too late. He had pulled away from the group and his soft footsteps were tapping in a way which suggested their direction. I had been standing too close to the light. I moved further into the darkness of the alley and willed my feet to move. Willed myself to run, but I could not. That scent, that beat . . . they forced me to stay, rooting me to the ground. I wanted so much to flee, but my legs would not move. My vampire half was battling with my human memories. My vampire half wanted his blood, craved it – his life was just collateral damage. Just like any other life I had taken since the change. Soon he was in the alley, looking curiously around, wondering if his eyes had deceived him; had cruelly tricked him here. I stayed so very still, praying that he would leave before my muscles became unlocked and my vampire half won this fight which I was already losing.

His eyes flickered about, fear on his face, but he had a look of determination that overrode that fear. "Sc-Scarlet?" He called uncertainly, and laughed obviously thinking he was being paranoid and insane. He didn't understand what was going on. But then I would think him very strange indeed if he did. His friends were calling to him again now and he glanced back over his shoulder; time to decide. My nails dug into my palms as I tried not to breathe. He stepped forward. Wrong decision. He saw me in the darkness. My gleaming white flesh and vivid red eyes, even with them he could recognise me. His face softened to a terrified joy. "Scarlet!" He said, and threw his arms open to embrace me in a hug, but seeing me flinch backwards, quickly let them fall to his sides. He may have known me, but he had enough basic instinct to be wary. He studied me with a curious hunger. His ability to ignore my eerily pale skin and scarlet eyes was astounding. "What's wrong?" He asked as though deeply concerned. _He's worried about me._ I laughed in my mind. He could obviously see the pained look across my face. "Look, come with me now! You can come home! Elli and Argo are so anxious! And Jake's flown over from England!" He said frantically, panicking as he sensed danger in my silence. "We can go to them now! You can explain where you've been!" He said, his voice escalating to a high pitched yell, and his friends were beginning to wander over to the place where we stood, concerned.

But as he spoke, my eyes gazed longingly at his neck and my whole body throbbed with thirst; my throat so dry I felt as if I would die if I did not drink soon. As if I had gone a month in a desert without water. I let a low growl spread across my lips and he unwilling shuffled back just a fraction. "Scarlet, what's wrong?" He asked, suddenly petrified. He made himself step forward again though I could hear his heart beating furiously against his chest in protest. Even his breathing was quicker now; rasping now. "Y-you can tell me." He stuttered softly, putting a hand on my arm.

His touch lasted only a second as he felt my cold skin and a shiver ran down his spine. I could smell the cold sweat forming across his forehead and pricking his back as he looked into my red eyes. But the warmth of his skin had been enough for the vampire side of me to push itself to the surface. In a second I was pinning him down, a strong hand pressed against his mouth, not quite hard enough to crush his jaw. I bent my head to his neck, holding him down with one hand as he thrashed, confused. I parted my lips against the beat of his veins and bit down.

The taste was exquisite and the guilt overwhelming. I could hear his harsh gasp, feel his struggling, trying to break away from the embrace he had not so long ago yearned for – not to be too flattering of myself. His scent whirled around me, cloaking me from the world and my senses. I was somehow pushing him away whilst I pulled him closer. I wanted to finish him; I wanted to save him. I was stuck between the two and whilst my mind decided, my mouth drew the blood from him with such a force it must have caused bruising. His skin was soft against my lips, and even his struggling sent a little shiver down my spine. Lust for the kill, as Aro had said was a newborns faux pas. Perhaps if I had been older . . . but no, I acted rashly and now Will was dying. My best friend dying at my hands. The only person who had ever stood up for me, dying at my hands. The person I hated so much the day that I died. I suppose this was fate's way of being ironic. His breathing was becoming more ragged and uneven as his heart beat slowed and desperately sent tiny pulses of the only blood left in him to his starved muscles, and to my starved lips.

At last his cold body dropped from my arms, dropped to the floor with a shuddering thud. It was strange. He looked uncannily beautiful in death; his bright blonde hair reflected the little light that was scattered around the alley; his green eyes bright and lifeless. I stood for a moment, silently watching him, until I fell to my knees howling. If I hadn't been so selfish he would be alive. If I hadn't been so stubborn he would still be laughing with his friends. If I had a little more self control he would be safe, joking and smiling with the friends that had let him go into the shadows. He always had the widest smile. Like a miniature sun beam. Nothing ever depressed him.

Long, rasping breaths were setting my throat on fire as I cried it hoarse. I wanted to stop but I couldn't. My shoulders continued to shake with sobs, and my mouth could not be closed. I could not silence the screeches coming from my own throat. I was draped over his motionless chest, trying to capture some of his lingering warmth. Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder, as cold as my own. A boy, just a few years younger than I, knelt down beside me, his arm around my shoulders. His chalky lips stretched painfully into a small smile. He fixed my cloak so it was no longer askew, and with his other hand touched mine softly. It was a small measure of comfort he could offer me. I tried to smile back at Alec, but I couldn't stop the sobs for long enough. So he just sat there. Didn't say a word and let me cry until there was nothing more I could let out. Then he lead me back to the Volturi where my bag was packed with the few possessions I had. I nodded ever so slightly and accepted it. I never wanted to come back here. Not now. Maybe if I was away from this I could move on – forget; forget everything. And forget the tiny smile that was on Will's lips as lay, dead. I wanted numbness. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to leave everything behind. I wanted to say goodbye.

**_Whoo! Lol. Cheerful, I know.  
Thanks to Antiaunty for reviewing._**

**_By the way, my old ridiculously chipper attitude in the most inappropraite of situations. I'll be skipping forward a year._**


	12. Sanity has Officially Left the Building

****

_Usual apology for the wait. This chapter was going to be called 'When Dead People Start Talking You Know Sanity Has Truly Left the Building' but it was too long.  
Oh and the last chapter was meant ot be called 'Whoever Said the Familiar was Comforting Should Be Shot'._

One Year Later . . . Or Thereabouts . . .

I cut through the air like a knife, darting between cars, the roar of my engine loud in my ears. I heard sirens behind me, and sighed, slipping on a smile. I knew how to talk my way out of a ticket. If they could catch me. I grinned and kicked the bike into gear, speeding up until I was pushing the limits of what it could do. The sirens faded, and I smirked. I loved my bike. It wasn't the fastest in the world, but it once had been. About half a year ago Alec had found one for me for my first Vampire Christmas (much to my surprise, they _did_ celebrate it and lavishly at that). It was the infamous Black Shadow, and – as I was particularly proud of – an English bike. As I drove my keen eyes spotted the smallest gap, and my expansive mind calculated the chance of me sliding through it. Until there appeared another police car in front of me. They were boxing me in. I pulled onto the hard shoulder and stepped off the bike, leaning back against it as they approached. I lifted my helmet, and shook my hair loose in the pale light of cloud cover. The officer paused a second before approaching me. I painted a look of shy despondence on my face, and looked down. "Was I going a little too fast?" I asked innocently, in flawless Italian, with a slight French accent. I'm not sure why. The officer nodded. I could see him fumbling to form a sentence and felt the sick sense of loathing I always did. I couldn't look at him straight in the eyes, for obvious reasons, but my peripheral vision was second to none. Well, none human anyway, and I was soon catching up with my peers. I had to be better at it than them.

"Yes. You were going at over three hundred kilometres per hour." He said, struggling to hold onto his authoritative voice.

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir." I said, my voice a semitone lower than normal. I let my eyes flicker up just for a moment, to catch his, expressing my sorrow through a jet black glance. "I'm late for . . . a funeral." I finished in a harsh whisper. It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't exactly the truth either. For one thing I wasn't invited to the funeral. In fact, my appearance would probably disturb a lot of people. But that was okay. I had a habit of being able to fade into the background unless anyone was specifically looking for me. Which, now I came to think of it, could be a problem.

"That's no excuse." He said, his tone infinitely softened. "You could hurt someone, or yourself." I really had to try hard not to laugh at that. As if anything could hurt me now. Nothing could touch me now. And the irony was that it was because I was so fragile before, that nothing could touch me now I was stone to my very core.

"I know, Sir." I murmured. Just the right mix of vulnerability and an inviting tone, and viola, the perfect way out of a ticket. The human male mind was pathetically simple.

Five minutes later I was back on my bike, racing through the roads at the same speed as before. I hadn't even gotten a caution. I parked around the corner just outside the cemetery, and stepped through the gates, leaning against a tree. My helmet was still on. I figured it'd be best if no one saw my face. I knew I shouldn't have come, but I couldn't stay away. I had to see them all one last time. I was going to get a lot of stick for this and Aro wouldn't be too pleased about the risk I was taking. This time last year, I'd gone to a club with Will. I hadn't thought much of it. Just another night of so called _'fun'_. I'd been missing just under a year now, and they'd finally found 'my body'. It was burnt beyond recognition, and there wasn't enough left of it to get a DNA sample. But it was my height, my size, and they managed to match dental records. The Volturi had a lot of people that no longer owed them favours. And now another search had been mounted for a girl around my age, who might have looked a little like me. I tried not to think of it though. No one would ever know she was being buried right now, under the name of Scarlet Anne Carey.

So there my family were gathered. Even Will's parents had shown up. Seeing them sent a shiver down my spine and I tried not to look. All of them were in black. I was a bit miffed with that; I'd always said that anyone wearing black to my funeral would not be welcome. I also wanted my grave stone to say _'smile or I'll haunt you'_. Either that, or _'well this sucks'_. Plus I wanted sunflowers, not lilies. Tears were sliding slowly down Elli and Argo's cheeks. I was glad to see they were still together. Apparently they had gone through quite rough patch during my disappearance. Jake was staring, dry eyed, at my coffin, even Luke looked sombre. And Lupe was inconsolable. He wasn't crying. Of course he wasn't. But I could see it in his eyes as he looked sadly at the shallow grave. He didn't have anyone left now. He hadn't even gotten to see me one last time. It had been so many years since he had hugged me. And I missed him. So much. I missed talking to him, whining about my problems and telling him whenever something good happened. I missed him reassuring me. I missed the way I could always tell whether he was smiling when he emailed me. I missed the way he'd worry about me and yet still somehow always look on the bright side. I missed him telling me everything was going to be alright. It was such a lie, and I as I looked in his face, I knew he was thinking the same thing with a bitter regret.

For a moment, and just a moment, he looked across in my direction. His long-ago-lost dark blue eyes lingered for a second on me. But it felt like a lifetime. He seemed to look straight through me as if he knew so well it was me standing there. As if he forgave me for everything – as if he was letting me go. But then his eyes flitted away and he stared at the grave he believed to be mine. He would never know the truth. And I had to live with the fact I had broken him. Seeing me was the only thing that had kept him hopeful; he had said so himself. Now he had a criminal record and no where to turn. God I wanted to help him, but I didn't know how. I would figure it out somehow.

I only stayed for a few minutes more before climbing onto my bike as the service started. I couldn't stand the thought of the girl in my grave being called my name. I sat there for a while, just thinking, tuning out the words of the preacher. With a sigh I kicked the bike into submission and started to drive. The normal glee I felt whenever I drove wasn't coming to me now. It was as if I had been sapped of all energy by going to the funeral. As if I was indeed, finally, beginning to decay. As I reached the apartment complex, I pushed such thoughts out of my mind. Ever since my return the Volturi had rented a flat for me. They knew how it irked me to be watched daily. But they could trust me now. I had no wish to try to escape them again. Alec had been particularly kind to me in France – had treated me as a person. Under his training I learnt that the Volturi were not the enemy, but protectors of the vampire population. Of course, it was bullshit, I knew, but it was comforting to accept the lie. The strange thing was; I think Alec actually did. I felt quite sorry for his weak mind.

I closed my door with a sigh and leant back against it, recalling the first time I had seen the place. It was very large, and open, with no real doors – the place had been custom decorated for the Volturi and their unusual needs. There was neither a bathroom, nor a kitchen to speak of and subsequently a dining room was also absent. The lift opened up straight into the living room. It was a spacious room with two levels. Embedded into a perfect white wall was a large, plasma television that I rarely used, and on the first level, a brown leather sofa, long enough to sleep comfortably on, and a small coffee table, not quite big enough to ruin the illusion of space. On the second level was a desk with a laptop lying atop it, and a few papers surrounding it. At the sides there were large mahogany book shelves, filled with leather bound and hard back books I had added to my collection. But in the centre of this wall there was the feature I loved most. A window, spanning the entire height and breadth of the wall, gave a beautiful view of the city. At first the buildings, cars, and marks of man-kind, and then came the greenest fields I had ever seen, and in the distance, the outlines of ruins marking the borders of Volterra. Of course, it was tinted from the outside, so anyone looking in would only see black, but I could walk around in full daylight and bask in the glow of the sun, admiring the diamonds bouncing of my skin, without fear of being watched. I had often thought about smashing the glass and revealing my true nature to all those in the city, but I had never quite worked up the courage to do it.

The bedroom was to the left, with an empty doorway leading through to it. I recalled being so embarrassed when Alec had first showed me the flat, and I had asked what a vampire would use a bedroom for. If I had been human I would have blushed so very badly. The room was equally light - it seemed they were trying to banish my stereotypical views of vampires. It seemed they loved the light. It had but one piece of furniture in it which was a massive double bed, with sheets so smooth they could not have been disturbed for a long while. Built into the wall was a wardrobe big enough to walk around in, hidden by a mirror which slid aside. I had come to loathe my reflection and the stares it incurred. I hated the men that wanted me because I looked like this. I hated that they couldn't see beyond the brilliant smile to the monster inside. I hated them for their weakness. Their superficiality. This wasn't beautiful to me – it was hideous; something so unnatural and deadly I wanted to scratch it out of existence. I was an anathema to my own self. I didn't understand how they could fail to see how wrong this was. God, how I hated the vampiresses of the Volturi. They were so aware of their beauty it was repugnant to watch.

For the first time in a while I curled up on the bed, to the right side, my back facing the tinted window where I hadn't bothered to close the blinds. I closed my eyes and I allowed the day to wash over me. Something about tonight made me wish I could sleep again. As my breathing slowed to a rhythmic pulse, a voice filled my head again. His arms around me, I breathed deeper, a familiar scent surrounding me. His voice fluttered in my ears; perfect velvet and luscious. I drank in the memory. I wasn't sure how or why it happened, but every so often I could imagine him so vividly it felt as if he were beside me. I supposed it was a defence mechanism my body had set up. Whenever I felt like giving up again I would suddenly feel him holding me, whispering to me. It worked very well. It allowed me to keep him from my mind while I worked and hunted. But when I was utterly alone, he would come to me again. It allowed me to move on without forgetting. And the only person who knew of this was Aro and he was tactful enough not to say a word about it. I had no doubt he laughed when my back was turned though.

'_How was the funeral?'_ His voice asked softly.  
"Suckish." I replied in a harsh mutter. It was insane, I knew, but to me it was heaven. He laughed a light, musical laugh,  
'_No sunflowers?'  
_"Not one. Lilies." I sighed.  
'_How clichéd.'_ I was about to say, _that's what I thought!_ But then realised it literally was what I thought. He was just an extension of my imagination. _'I _am_ sorry. You know they just thought they were doing what was respectful'_. Chimed the voice.  
"I know." I agreed with a small smile. It disappeared very quickly though. "Maybe that girl would have wanted them."  
'_It wasn't your fault.'_ He said with a kind of saddened fierceness as if he was trying to convince me. I sighed again and tucked my head into my knees. I could so nearly feel his hand on my hair – the sensation was so realistic. _'Scarlet, there was nothing you could do. And at least now your family can move on.'  
_"At the expense of someone else's." I said in a barely audible whisper. There was another sigh and I could feel his weight shift to lie next to me.  
'_How were Elli and Argo? And Lupe?'  
_"Just dandy." I said with a half-hearted chuckle. "You should have seen his face . . . He looked like he'd just found out he was dead."  
'_Like in sixth sense?'  
_"Exactly." I smiled a little. "He wasn't crying, of course . . . but he looked suicidal. I'm worried about him . . ."  
'_I'll keep an eye on him for you.'_ The voice promised and I managed a hollow laugh.  
"Thanks." I said, grinning at my own insanity. It was completely ridiculous. With that we lapsed into silence that was entirely comfortable. We lay there for . . . I don't know how long, only that I heard bells toll midnight before he left. And as they did he spoke two words.  
'_Happy Birthday.'  
_And then the presence was gone, as if it had never been at all. I lay for moments or minutes or hours thereafter until my phone started to buzz and light started to stream through the window again.

It was the 14th of September and I officially turned sixteen today.

As if it mattered.

**_Okay so not as cheerful as it was before, but still a lot chipper than the previous chapters. Ah, she's so insane, I love it._**

**_The next chapter's basically going to be just a bit of fun, and thenwe'll get to the actual plot.  
All I will say is that I will be introducing some new characters who will tie it neatly back to the actual Twilight._**

**_Anywho, a massive thanks to Hawktalon. of. Windclan who has reviewed!! Thank you :D_**


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